SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE

Literally.

I have been in Seattle for the past week, and am finally leaving to go home today. (phew- thank god). So excited to go home- for several reasons, excited to see my cats, excited to be in 60 degree weather, excited to see Vicki and Damaris, but more than anything- excited to get a goodnight sleep.

I have not slept well since I got to Seattle. And I’m not even joking. We stayed at the westin- which for all outward appearances should have been a nice experience- kinda fancy, right down town, good room service, pool, spa, whatever- I mean bill Clinton stayed there… but holy shit what a façade. First of all there are two tall towers that all the rooms are in, and they were built on ”rollers” (whatever that means) as a earthquake precaution. But what that means is that the towers sway, and they creak. And I’m not talking about a little sway or a little noise. I’m talking water swishing in the toilet bowl and loud creaks and moans and holy fucking shit.

The first night as Tate and I laid awake at midnight, a little scared, a lot concerned and totally pissed because we had to be on set in 4 hours.

We changed rooms.

That one talked too. I’m telling you the whole hotel had something to say- it was wild. After a week I got used to it. It isn’t so bad when it’s not windy, but , as you might have heard Seattle gets a lot of rain, and um wind… it’s unbearable.

But I couldn’t believe in a town who is famous for insomnia, one of the nicer hotels in town would, it seems go out of it’s way to make the stereotype true.

Good riddance.

GREETINGS FROM TACOMA

So here I am in Tacoma Washington, sitting in my rented Tahoe in the middle of the night on an Army commercial. For those of you that are avid readers, you will remember that I ended my year last year by blowing up a set, and this year ends no differently. We’ve built a set in the middle of a field- a “bad guys base camp” and we’ve been blowing it up bit by bit…

Well sort of. Lots of army dudes, gas explosions, helicopters, machine guns shooting blanks… pretty cool shit actually.

The whole job is about a month long and myself, my father, my boyfriend and a host of other dummies are up here as well…

Tacoma leaves a lot to be desired, but Seattle is awesome- we move hotels up to Seattle next week which I am looking forward to- I’ve been in shit hole Tacoma for far too long.

Excited to go to Colorado for the holidaze- Tate is coming with, which is nice… we are about to have our one year anniversary- gulp. Speaking of anniversaries , I have officially been in the US for a year… in fact it was one year ago tonight my brother threw me my welcome home/ 30th birthday party…

I was in such a different place then- just back- deeply culture shocked- unsure of where I was going to live, or if would go strait back to work, or if I was even going to stay… a lot has happened- most notable of course is Tate, without whom I can no longer imagine my life. (sigh)

And so I don’t know. I don’t feel like blogging lately, and its not that life isn’t exciting or interesting… it’s just, happening, and I am enjoying it, and I don’t feel the need to share it as much as I did before. I feel very grateful, and blessed, and so in love… it’s just all so nice. I’m a happy girl, and it’s a welcome feeling.

And so, in conclusion I leave you with this: Dirka Dirka, Jihad Dirka.

AND JUST LIKE THAT, EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT

So Tate and I have been talking about moving in together for a while…. But there were a lot of uncertainties… Do we get a new place together- does he move into my place? Will it ever feel like our place? Or will it always have the stench of “my” place? How do we make it “ours”… I mean my place for the money- you really can’t do much better- but my parents own the place, and that has it’s pluses and minuses… and so we deliberate.

Then we shifted the conversation to, well, if he did move in, how would we do the place, how would we do it differently to make it feel different… we came up with switching the office and the bedroom- make it feel new, different… and the bedroom is bigger and it kinda makes more sense for two people and two desks and all that…

So the other day we did a little online browsing, desks, dressers…. What would we need to buy to make the space work for two. We found a few things we liked, a couple of things we loved etc. SO. Yesterday when we went to the store to pay and order the above mentioned pieces of furniture. Figuring it would arrive in a few weeks and by then we would have Tate's apt packed up and we could move him in and build our new shit and all that…

So then perhaps you can understand how it caught me off guard when they had everything in stock. And before I knew it , there we were moving the bed, building the desks, moving bookshelves, doing the whole thing last night.

I mean, I knew he was moving in, and I knew things were gonna change, but I hadn’t really expected it all to happen in one day…

And to make things crazier, when we found out we could take all the shit home, we figured we would move it all around today, and spend the rest of the week, bringing Tate’s shit over and settling in, but yesterday afternoon I got a call to start a job today- so suddenly we had a shit load to do all before I came to work this morning….

But before I knew it, it was 11 pm, and there we were, with 2 new desks in the old bedroom, and our heads laying where the fax machine and printer had been just a few hours prior.

It was wild, but I guess that’s what you get when you have two art dept people move in together. Instant house… like it’s a set.

The truth is that the rooms look great, and I think I am going to like it a lot. It will undoubtedly take some getting used to…. Middle of the night trips to the bathroom, closet still in the office that kinda thing? Where do I put my dirty clothes now… etc. But it feels like a new apt. And that was the whole goal. Make it new, make it feel like Tate and I made it together…

As a side note- my cats were totally confused. It was bed time, mom was in her pajamas, but why did she keep going in the office? And why wasn’t the bed in the bedroom? What the fuck? It’s gonna take some getting used to for sure…

THREE CANKER SORES AND A FRACTURE THANK YOU VERY MUCH

Greetings from the Santa Monica infirmary. Where I am hopped up on Vicodin and my cat Pete is loaded on Morphine. Fun times at 1450 Franklin.

I have had a ball buster of a sore throat for a week now- so bad that I went to the doctor twice. The first time I went they took a throat culture, as it turns out I don’t have strep. But a upon a second visit it was determined that I nave not one, not two but three enormous canker sores on my left tonsil.

Terrific. Those fuckers are huge and they fucking HURT. I mean big time. Haven’t had pain like this, since, well, ever. Shit is maddening. But the doc gave me Vicodin for the pain- so in between gargling with salt water, and NOT eating very much I am getting seriously high on the vics…..

It would seem perfect timing that the week I spend in bed all doped up my cat would go and fall out a window and fracture his leg. (His left leg I might add) I think the whole thing was an attempt to get special treatment and an excuse to get wasted and lay in bed with mom- but in all fairness the screen finally gave way and he fell out of the window about 6 feet onto the concrete and fractured his bone and has been limping severely ever since.

But that’s why they made cat morphine. And human vicodin.

Another dose Pete? Yes lets.

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

I could tell you all about brents wedding.

I could tell you about when Rachel got married.

I could tell you all about indiana.

Or I could just show you the pictures

FOOTBALL HAIKU

Watch the pigskin fly
See the fat man run and catch
Cover the spread bitch.

WELCOME TO FORT WAYNE INDIANA, HAVE A COOKIE

That’s what the man with the cookie basket says as he greets you as you deboard the plane. “Welcome to the Midwest, forget your diet- it’s time to fatten up.”

And it’s no joke. I single handedly undid 5 months of dieting in 11 days in Indiana. And I have only one thing to say:

YUM. No joke- Fort Wayne was delicious, everything soaked in butter and salt, served with macaroni salad and French fries, oh my god- BLISS. Cakes and pies and donuts and you just can’t believe the things they made. Tate’s mom is a FANTASTIC cook, far and away the best macaroni and cheese I have EVER had. I mean, it was serious, holy lasagna and burgers and chocolate cake… and I mean what was I gonna do? Say no to Tate’s Mom? Aheemmm no. I asked for seconds.

It was great.

We left Fort Wayne this morning- and as is the case with certain places in the world, I can tell it is going to take a few weeks to digest the experience. But there are a few things I found particular to Fort Wayne that I have never seen anywhere else in the world.

For one thing- everyone still smokes- with the exception of Tate's immediate family- every other person I met smoked, and as you can still smoke in restaurants and bars- they all smoke A LOT. Secondly, everyone, when saying good bye says “be careful” I’m not sure what there is going on in Indiana that everyone is so cautious about… but the result of this is two fold- on the one hand you feel a heightened sense of fear- as there is something evil out there that needs warning against, but on the other hand there is a tremendous sense of kindness that is extended to you because everyone is looking after you… it’s kind. And the third and particularly strange thing I discovered in Indiana is that when you go to a restaurant they ask you, before the meal, how you would like the bill. Chase and Tate together, And Dave and Lori together, and Cory came alone so separate him… and this happens everywhere. At EVERY MEAL. It’s not that it’s annoying or bothersome, at least not to the costumer- would seem it would bother the waiter if anyone… but this is just HOW IT IS. Totally normal. And to me, it’s one of the strangest customs I ‘ve ever seen.

In truth it makes it easier, and it is fairer and cleaner and no complex math to do, but it TOTALLY takes the romance out of trying to buy someone dinner. All that “no I insist” at the beginning of the meal just isn’t the same….

I don’t know what that says about those Hoosiers- are they cheap, are they stingy and don’t want to pay a part of a friends beer? Or is it simply an easier way to enjoy a meal? All I know is I get the serious stink eye anytime I ask for a check to be separated anywhere else I have ever been… strange little place Fort Wayne.

I actually liked it a lot, I loved meeting Tate’s family and seeing the world he grew up in. I learned so much about him in a short amount of time- it was like cramming for a test- except um, without the test. And everyone was so kind and sweet and very REAL. No pretentious Los Angeles crap that is so prevalent out west- just good old real kind people. But admittedly there is a lot if ignorance going on there, just silly bigotry or comments about “fags” or some shit- and these people don’t mean it, they just don’t know any better. And that makes it frustrating- because to offer another opinion to some people is seen as an offence, or an attack on their way of life, and that can be sort of saddening and terrible frustrating. I spent a lot of time with my mouth shut, and smiling politely. Tate is not so good at that- he lets people know what he thinks, and I’m sure if it was my home town I would too, but it always stirs up the shit, and when your probably never going t o agree, sometimes its better just to stay quiet and just enjoy dinner. (ahha chase- for those of you that are longtime blog readers perhaps you will remember a religious argument that happened on these pages about a year ago where I was singing a slightly different song- my, how your tune has changed Chase…. Tisk tisk tisk)

Either way I had a wonderful time and was so grateful to be taken into Dave and Lori’s home and to be included in all of Tate’s family meals and outings… it’s was pretty great.

And my favorite part was Tate. Because he was pretty cute.

SHOPPING

I love shopping. Damaris, my newly appointed “stylist” took me shopping a few weeks ago and we bought me some much needed new clothes, and it was AWESOME. Then this week we took my cutie pants boyfriend and bought him (and I’m not kidding here) and entire new wardrobe. A suit, shirts, ties, jeans, button ups, fucking- a, even pajamas.

And I gotta say, my man looks good.

I love shopping with Damaris. In fact I love doing just about anything with that girl. Shopping ,movies, working, driving a car, watching TV. She’s just a good girl. The best part about shopping with D is she has good taste, and she knows what is allowed.

That’s the thing about shopping and clothes that I always hated- it’s that it seems like there are all these rules to clothing.

“Oh god you can’t wear that with that…”
“good lord look at her!”

…and I just, don’t know them. Lord knows my mother tried…but she will be the first to tell you I never got it. Dead of winter in Colorado and I am heading out the door in shorts. (now that sounds like common sense) but seriously. I just never got it. Combine that with the fact that I am not your average boutique size, and I just kinda give up.

T-shirts and jeans- that’s where I’ve lived. For years. I look like my father. (god my poor mother). I mean, m mom went to fashion school for god sakes!

Anyway. It wall started with the jeans. Girls jeans don’t fit- well, not if your like me and have a bit of the “junk in the trunk” as it were- so I go to men’s stores. Levi’s, wranglers… whatever. For years damaris has been saying “those jeans don’t fit- you look like you have a terd in your pants”. And I would say- “I can’t wear girls jeans,” and she would sigh and quietly roll her eyes.

And then the other day I called her and said. “ok D. Lets go buys some jeans” The next thing I know I’m at the register with my credit card in hand, at barneys, saying “shit I’m unemployed, but spending this much money in an afternoon is FUN! And it was.

But I will say this, my junk in the trunk is looking a lot more like budunk-budunk.

THE BOWL AND THE BUS

In what has become a three years in the making tradition- last weekend Nikky and friends celebrated her birthday by renting a double decker bus and driving a bunch of friends- several cases of champagne and a ton of food thru Hollywood to the Hollywood bowl.

It’s always so much fun and so ridiculous- and indeed it was again this year. Had some new kids which is always fun for someone to drive up la brea, or down Hollywood with a full bottle of champagne in your hand howling at pedestrians for the first time. (and it never seems to get old for some of us – ah carter???)

The show was the reggae nation or something- and it was really fun. I’ve never seen so many wasted people at the bowl, and it has certainly never been so lax about smoking cigarettes and pot in your seat. Love those hippies man.

Anyway, an excellent night. And, not a ton, but a smattering of pictures here.

BIRDS POSSUMS AND CATS OH MY

Flap flap.

Thud thud.

That was the sound I awoke to at 5am on sunday morning as Pete the cat had a bird half dead and flapping around on the floor IN MY BEDROOM.

I am not good with birds, especially half dying stunned little grey ones on my floor. There was Pete, just happy as could be- “look mom I brought you a present!” Little fucker. The bird was so not dead yet, but quickly on his way…

‘Tate…. Uhhhh, mmmm, aaahhhh, eeee honey wake up, get the bird, get the bird out… help honey”

Now imagine this spoken by barry white: (becasue for some unknow reason that's how Tate sounds when he is still half asleep)

“Go back to sleep baby, don’t worry about it, Good boy petey, get him...”

That was his answer. Fucker. Meanwhile the bird is like, seizing about a foot away from my head. Finally Sally and I had had enough. So we shut the bed room door with Pete Tate and the bird inside, and she and I slept our morning out on the couch. And when I returned to the scene of the crime a few hours later there were feathers everywhere, a small bloody carcass at the foot of the bed and two soundly sleeping jackasses.

***

That same evening I watched Joey, my parents Jack Russell attack and kill a possum in their backyard. Didn’t really take long, that little dog kicked some serious possum ass. He didn’t stand a chance. Couldn’t tell if he killed him or if was he just playing possum, either way he wound up shoveled into a neighbors yard thru the alley.

It was a gruesome day for the “domestic” animals over here in Santa Monica.

Yuck.

It was the kind of day that makes your ankles feel vulnerable. I hate that.

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START

Seems like I write less and less these days and I am forced to summarize more and more, and as a result my blogs are well, less than their former glory.

What can I say- some people blog every day… I don’t.

They win.

The last month and 1/2 have been good- sometimes very intense, and at times hectic, but mostly good.

Did a commercial and a music video back to back which was a bit much… two big jobs really take it’s toll on the sleep factor. Another bad side effect of too much work is that I unfortunately had a falling out with a long time employee where by he told me to go fuck himself and I basically haven’t hired him since. It was pretty heartbreaking, because he was a loyal employee, and a good friend, and I feel his absence on my jobs since…

BUT.

I had a FUCKING AWESOME fourth of July. I have uploaded some pictures here. It was just really really fun. It started watching Italy win the semi finals of the world cup, then we had a bbq at Emily Fosters house (god damn is her baby cute… seriously) and then we went to the Dodger game where not only did we sit in the FRONT ROW ON THE FIELD, but my friend brad got HIT WITH A FLY BALL in the chest (hilarious) and THEN after the game they let us rush the field and we sat on the grass and watched an EPIC fireworks show. God damn SO MUCH FUN. I’m a big fan of music during fireworks… and they played all the Americana great ones- Neil Diamonds comin to America, fucking john cougar…. It was pretty awesome. Very America, very 4th.

After finishing a horrific music video (I’ll never do another one ever again, but then, I say that after EVERY video I do)… I actually had a few days off. And that was marvelous. I actually got some time to work on my backyard, planted some roses, built a cat door for my cats (totally changed their life and mine by the way) I can’t really take credit for the cat door though- Tate really did that big boy)…then we refinished my teak table and chairs, and after a few days my backyard was actually wonderful again…

Then I went to Block Island for Justin Dragonas’s wedding. It was a lot of fun and there are a shit load of pictures.

Came home to work (which is always nice). Doing a Remington shaver commercial with Cindy Crawford. And I have to say, often models are not nearly as hot as they should be,. I suppose that why she is a “super” model. She really is stunning, and it really is pretty amazing to see a woman who is THAT beautiful in the flesh…

Coming up, I have 3 weeks of traveling in September… Tate is taking me home to Indiana the first week of sept, (gulp) then we go to Wash DC for my dad’s art opening, then we go to Martha’s vineyard for a wedding, and finally we get to relax for a week or two in cape cod… so as of now I am just working working working to afford my little September travels….

In terms of personal stuff I am kinda terrific. I am so head over heals for Tate- it’s totally absurd. We are very much in the thick of it, and that’s totally fun and new and wild and just fucking great.

I do miss Rome all the time, and can’t believe sometimes I don’t live there, and now that its been like, Jesus, 9 months (!) since I was there, my time there is coming into focus in terms of what it meant in the scope of my life… pretty wild.

SO that’s kind of it. Been thinking of all sorts of odds and ends to blog, and I never do… kind of a jackass that way.

Anyway- hope everyone is well.

Xo-me

BACK IN THE SADDLE BITCH

Well wouldn’t you know it the second Tate and I got all settled in in Oregon ready for more fishing and fun- the phone rang and within 16 hours Tate and I were back in the car headed down to LA to go back to work. Damnit. I wasn’t gonna take the job- but Phil and Tate talked me into it and since they will get days on it too- I listened and this morning started another job.

Good lord.

It was a super fucking bummer to have to leave- but the drive was quick enough (yea right 12 fucking hours) but we made it and here we are.

And that’s kinda it- working my little sunshine ass off, and looking just fine while I do it.

What!

GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME

Greetings from central Oregon. Tate and I are having yet anther little adventure together. This time we decided last minute to jump in the car and drive up north to go see Phil. I’ve been working with Phil for going on 7 years now- and for the last 5 since he moved here it’s been “you gotta come up, this place is the best ever…” ect ect.

But I have to hand it to Tate for making it happen. We decided on Friday afternoon and we were gone Saturday morning.

We spent the night in San Fransico on saturday- which is always so awesome- Tate had never been there so we drove down Lombard st and sat in golden gate park, had a beer on the haight and then stumbled onto the Italian North beach festival- during the Italy US world cup game- which was awesome. We ate Italian food and watched the game, smoked a joint and laughed at the world going by. We hooked up with my old friend Max and his friends and went out in the Castro… and at 7am the next morning we departed the city via the golden gate bridge…

It was awesome.

We got to Bend Oregon on Sunday afternoon and since then have been given the total royal treatment… we went hiking yesterday and rafting today and tomorrow we are taking Phil’s boat out in the morning and then another hike, and on Thursday we’re going g fishing….

Man Oregon is fucking awesome. So beautiful and clean and amazing. Bend is a cross between small town Colorado and small town new England. It’s totally wild- it’s kind of red neck and mountains like Colorado- but then there is a very manicured elegance like in Martha’s Vineyard or upstate Connecticut,… it’s really fucking cool.

Right now I am at Kinko’s downloading shit for work (What the !!!) as Phil doesn’t have internet at his house. But that’s just about the only thing he doesn’t have. I mean it- 5 acres!!! He has a pond and a fire pit and a hammock and a HUGE backyard, a Jacuzzi, a paddle tennis court, a barn and a boat- he has a horse 2 goats, 3 cats and 2 dogs… its so so amazing.

So anyway- my shit is done downloading- so I am off.

Be good, go Miami and don’t forget to keep your head in the game…

HOLY MOTHER OF….

Hello and greetings at 9:30pm doing nothing at work except waiting for my favorite 4 letter word to come: wrap.

Finishing up a mother of a job. Spent 5 days in the hideous desert- hotter than 2 rats fuckin in a wool sock out there- fucking hell man. 2 days in Palm Springs hell, and then 2 more in 29 palms on a god forsaken salt flat.

The sun was hotter than shit out there- let me tell you.

But the real highlight was when a 20 foot speed rail pole came sweeping down out of the sky and slammed my dear old boyfriend Tate square across the head and sent him to hospital where he was the lucky recipient of two, count em two staples in the noggin.

But the upshot of him splitting his head open, getting knocked out and becoming fairly severely concussed- was that he and I got to spend the rest of the afternoon in the sweet loving air conditioning of the emergency room.

And while I ‘m on the subject- let me tell you about the ER in a hi-desert community. Jesus fuck those animals are all meth addicts. Even the doctors and nurses…. No joke- these sand mongers are fucking crazy- and not just because they don’t know any better- but because the heat has melted their brains- mush, mashed brain. Terrifying.

And damned entertaining….

The woman in the bed next to us was so blisteringly wasted- she kept pulling out her IV and dripping blood on the floor so she could leave to go smoke a cigarette- finally they had to bring in the police to strap her to the bed- brutal. Then there was the kid who was so strung out on meth he collapsed at the front door of the ER- and how could I ever forget the teenager who was brought in by his mother for what she called a severely ingrown toenail.

I guess my question is this: how ingrown does a toenail have to get to warrant a trip to the ER. Apparently in the desert it’s all par for the course.

Alas- Tate is fine. He received two staples, a bottle of vicodin and got the rest of the day off. He has, admittedly been a little rough around the edges since the “pounding” as I’ve taken to calling it- he does things like try to roll down car windows that are already down… he gets dizzy and lightheaded… his first cat scan was fine- and we are going to get another next week- but man- the first two days after said pounding he was the definition of concussed. I guess I know that he’ll be fine- which is why I can laugh.

Cuz it’s funny. But not like ha ha.

LIFE HAS A WAY

Of just moving right along doesn’t it?

I mean, one day I was living in Italy doing things the Italian way, writing a blog all the time, and the next thing I know, I look up and realize I’ve been back in la for almost 6 months to the day (WHOA….) and I never take the time to write anymore- and I think what the hell has happened?

And the truth is – a fucking TON. Truly a ton.

First and foremost I fell in love, and that changed everything. I now am thinking for two-and it’s so nice. And he’s so the greatest guy- and it’s so real and wonderful and intense, I mean, I have a serious boyfriend, and I see my friends less, and when I’m not working I’m with him, and it’s WILD.

IT’S SO DIFFERENT NOW. LIFE IS SO DIFFERENT.

And at the same time- it’s exactly the same. It’s fucking weird.

In a nut shell, the last, Jesus it’s been a month and a half since I wrote- I worked like a maniac this spring- really brutal back to back jobs- paid down a lot of debt (not all the way- which is the American way).. watched a lot of basket ball- my team the clippers made it to game 7 of the semi finals (which for the Europeans online- that is the equivalent of someone like Leeds almost winning the premiership) – it was fucking intense…. I went to Colorado for two weeks with Tate.

Saw the babies, painted my parents new house, as a sort of thank you for letting me bunk up at their place for 4 months… we hiked, and played, and napped, and got massages, and drank in the afternoon, it was so so nice- and I had forgotten the importance of taking someone you love home. Sure Tate had met my family- but home is Colorado and it was so wonderful for him to see that.

Then we packed up and came back to LA for one day and the two of went to Hawaii for a week. Tough life, I know. I got these insano cheap tickets online and we were supposed to only go for a weekend, but we got there (Waikiki for those who care) and 4 days was NOT going to be enough- so we extended our trip. It was the BEST. Since were back everyone has been asking what we did: “did you go surfing, hiking, waterskiing, para gliding, base jumping?” And the answer is , “uh no.”

We did nothing, not a god damned thing, and fucking hell if it didn’t take all day to get it done. I mean, we just got our little chairs and umbrella and sat our ass on the beach and that was fucking it. And we played in the water, and cuddled and ran around and drank in the afternoon (and morning) and slept in late, and just RELAXED. Total vacation- total bliss.

It was AMAZING.

And now I am back ,and started work already- some, what am I dong? Oh right Cover girl. Cover girl: shoot in palm springs for 5 days- I went to scout yesterday –it was 105 Fahrenheit. Holy shit. That’s fucking hot.

But you know, back in the house, the clippers lost, the cats are good, I’m back at work, gearing up for a summer of weddings in the east coast, ( I have SEVEN wedding s this year- holy hell fire- ranging from Mexico, cape cod, Martha’s vineyard, Dallas Texas, Block island, Florida and one in LA- so much for vacation this year- all my money is going to a free meal on the other side of the country… shit)

And so it’s nuts- sure a lot has happened- but it blows my mind that it’s been SIX MONTHS since I left Rome. And I can’t believe that I am not going back tomorrow- and I can’t believe that I haven’t been back yet- I miss it- and I don’t.

I mean, I miss my friends, and I miss the life style, and I miss being an ex-pat, and being away from the states- but there are things here that I can’t get there- like Tate for one, and my family, and I don’t know- TV and sushi, and Mexican food and yard sales with friends, and my god sons, and all of that shit- you know, my LIFE.

And that’s been a strange realization- that my life is here- and home base is here- but that the deal is, I work and then TRAVEL. Cuz that’s what makes me happy- and I CAN. It’s not that hard, and I’m into it

So, that’s it. Hey pics uploaded- Hawaii, and Colorado. Fun times.

SO THEN….

It’s been a long time since I have written, and for that I apologize- but after I try and surmise all that has occurred in the last few weeks you might begin to understand why I haven’t had a while lot of extra time to write…

Firstly, I moved back into my old apartment. This happened for a couple of reasons. The renters that were living here decided to move out, and suddenly my apartment was available. I had been considering a move- or at least renting an apartment in LA. Work has been going so well, and I actually am enjoying being here- combine that with a new man in my life- I wanted to have a place where we could go that wasn’t his place and that want’ my parents house- if you catch my drift. So I decided what the fuck- it was about the easiest move I have ever done- all my shit was either in the apartment already or in the garage outside. I didn’t even have to get a truck. It was pretty sweet. So I got the place fumigated and cleaned and within a few hours I was in.

Talk about instant life- I feel like Guy (for those of you familiar with the reference…) Nothing like a car, a man and a home to make you feel all settled in. The cats were more than a little shocked, and I think twice as happy to come home. It really made me think about the last 18 months of my life, and all the travels the cats and I have done, coming home. Little things like plugging my phone charger in next to my bed for what could be that last time in a while gave me the most amazing feeling- I have been on the road for so long- what a marvelous feeling to come home- combine that with the absurdness of moving BACK into an old apartment- unpacking is such a no brainier- shit, I already know where everything goes… strange. I did re-arrange slightly- gives the house a new vibe- I like it a lot.

Then there has been work. Just back to back to back to back jobs. Seriously going for it. Got a new art director and she and I are working really well together- like two little peas in a pod. It’s nice. I have barely had time to scratch my you know what- I’ve been working just like a manic. It’s good.

Then my brother had a birthday- which meant we had to throw a big ol party. I footed much of the bill, and so the while “getting out of debt” suffered a minor setback because of it, I say fuck it, it was seriously worth it. Highlights include a chewbaca shaped piñata, me in gorilla suit knocking over the tip jar on the bar, and ruining a few books- and me spilling three fresh drinks in a row on the floor because of a dare- it seems the night was an utter success.


I do get weekends off these days- and that has been pretty blissful. Been spending a lot of, ok all of my free time with Tate who is so fucking marvelous- I almost don’t even know where to begin- I have taken him to a few parties and such, and he’s always such a champ- he’s a total hit with the friends, which always makes me feel good, when people like my man… so that’s awesome. And I really like him too. Carter and Nikky have seen him the most probably, as we have a permanent standing Sunday brunch date these days, and the 4 of us are really having a nice little time… I swear he and carter are so alike- it’s a little disturbing…

What else- I made a reservation to go to Hawaii in May. Decided I was going to freak out if I didn’t have a trip on the horizon- so the aforementioned “getting out of debt” has suffered yet another minor set back- but I REALLY don’t care about this one- 4 days in Hawaii with Tate is so worth any money I can throw at it- it’s gonna be great. Found this absurdly good deal online- so I was like BOOK NOW THANK YOU VERY MUCH…

Ahhh.

What else. Damaris moved, which is so weird that she and I always seem to move apartments at the same time…

Oh, I worked with David Lachapelle last week, which was very cool. I like his work A LOT and have always admired him, so that was pretty cool to see an idol at work…

Doing a McDonalds commercial this week (woo-hoo) and then I will do Ford and then another Target spot after that…

I guess I am surprised how comfortable I am back into LA. I swear I just really didn’t think I would be staying when I came back- I really thought I was going to sweep in and get out. But I didn’t account for Tate, and now because of him, I want to stay. And it seems like I am going to. I mean, getting the apartment back and all. But I had to keep reminding myself that moving back in wasn’t a life sentence- it’s just an apartment, and if anything, this place is month to month, and better than almost any OTHER apartment this one is the easiest to be temporary in… but I don’t feel temporary. I feel quite settled, and after my uber transient year, it’s come as a welcome and comforting surprise.

So shit is good, I am happy and well and good. And that is pretty great. Will post some pics soon. And when I do, you all will be the first to know.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for the emails asking for me to post- it’s always nice to know you are all listening. Till next time, fear not, for I will remain

Chase

HAPPY DAYS

So I am here in LA, working my little rump right off, working for the swill merchants of the American machine…

And I have to say I am pretty fucking happy. I love my little car, I have paid off almost my entire debt, I totally have a boyfriend (weird), and I like him so much, and in general I am just really really happy and doing awesome.

I had the entire week off (!!) and it was just so nice to finally have a little time to get my car cleaned, and do some shopping and I did my taxes, and my shit is just super on point…

And it feels good.

I just love being happy. I think I used to take happy for granted, and now I know how hard I have worked to be here, now, and happy.

And I totally totally am.

I’ve said it before, and I hope to say it again.... But,

happy days.

VERY DRUNK

At the airport. Its probably a federal offence, I am probably breaking the security act, or the patriot act, or the decency act, or whatever- but mama is SHITFACED at the airport. 7:37am. My flight leaves in 2 hours and I am HAMMERED. Sitting with my very sober dad at the fort Lauderdale airport, drunk as a skunk… 3 sheets to the wedding, hanging on my a shred, fucking wasted, blotto, still drunk from last night. Just. Drunk.

The last thing I remember was switching to tequila with my uncle,. HE HAD NEVER HAD PATRON. That needed to be remedied. I found my phone on the front lawn, or, I should say, my father found my phone on the front lawn by the rental car. I don’t remember a fucking thing. But in the words of my father I was a “total asshole”.

I’ve been drunk a million times, and I’ve made a jackass of myself at least that many times, but somehow being that sloppy in front of my 20 years sober father makes it all more vivid…

I think it was a fun wedding. I think. I actually remember very little. Dad says I was trying to light a cigarette in the car on the way home, and telling him to fuck off.. and god knows what else.

Dads been sober for almost 20 years, and he hates that I drink. Can you blame him? I’m a fucking sloppy drunk bastard (and especially so this morning)… all I want to do is get on the plane and pass out. Oh my god. Drunk.

Have to eat a bagel. Or two. Or twelve. And maybe a bloody mary. Or twelve. Ha.

God I smell good. MMMMMMMM.

I look good

IT’S ALL HAPPENING

So I am at work. Unnecessarily so. I could leave. I don’t have anything left to do. But I am trying to impress this new fancy pants production designer I am working with, and to show her my tough as nails work my ass off attitude, so I am staying late and putting on a show….

When in fact I am emailing and writing my blog over a sausage sandwich.

I haven’t had to prove myself at work in a long long time. Seems like I’ve been doing this shit for so long, and it always came so easy to me I never had to push- I was just naturally good.

And it’s not that I’m not good now- I just have to pretend to be better right now… (God, does that even make sense?)

There’s just some extenuating pressure on this job, and I have to say I totally dig it…. I like it when it’s hard.

And it’s working. She just told me she wants me on every job with her. Which would be pretty fucking cool, because she’s probably the most talented high profile designer I’ve ever worked with, and she works all the time, all over the world…

But whatever. Cuz right now it’s 7:46pm and I haven’t done shit for like 3 hours… I’m just chilling, getting dinner and keeping her company. But sometimes, that’s the job description.

In other news. I guess I have a boyfriend. I don’t know quite how it happened, but I am seeing a guy and it’s getting kinda serious and I like him a lot. It’s weird.

Strange how it all happens when you least expect it to. I swore I was coming to LA for 3 months- make cash in and out. And well, I kinda wanna stay right now. I am really enjoying my life right now. I feel happy and healthy and it just all feels good.

And once again, I find myself Happy. Right where I am. What a gift.

Oh and PS- my friend called me to say that he bought his black razor phone because they played “back in black” on the commercial… guess I’m not alone after all. Fucking advertising. Anyone who makes commercials should die. I mean, uh… ahem...woops.

TARGET AUDIENCE (aka love letter to the 80’s)

Well, I got taken. Total snap drag take out by the man- suckered by advertising- targeted, zoomed into and fuckin sold. It’s the heartbeat of America, it’s our raison de etra… it is the great American machine. I knew it was happening, I felt it go down, and I did nothing to stop it. Because that’s how capitalism works. God bless it.

And some days I just love it.

Last week my cell phone broke- well, it wasn’t completely dead, in truth I probably could have gotten another several months out of it. But the fucking things sucked. It hung up every time I flipped it open… it was a piece of shit. Slow, old, total piece. (albeit at one time a very expensive piece of shit) but it was dying something vicious and it was not going to be long before it was completely caput, So I decided to head that fucker off at the pass and get a new one.

So I went to the Cingular store- figured I’d just buy the new razor in like, black or silver or whatever cuz it was closest to my old phone (you know, the piece of shit), and it was actually only $100 which seemed reasonable enough. (my last phone cost me almost $400… so $100 seemed like the deal of the century)… Plus, I knew a few people who had the razor, and they liked it enough.. so ok I figured I’d buy it. But then at the last minute I decided not to buy the phone that day- I don’t know why, the person I was with got antsy and I decided I didn’t care enough to stick around and buy the fucker.

Honestly I was thinking do I REALLY need it? The phone isn’t dead YET, and after a year in Italy, the idea of rushing out to buy a little shiny object simply because I could, seemed… well, unnecessary. Like do I REALLY NEED a new one. Not totally, not yet, not 100%.

I’ve been very aware of that recently- all the marketing and advertising that has been pushed my way. I don’t think I ever really noticed it before- having grown up with it- but to have a brief respite from it- I realized how much of a relief it is to NOT have all that advertising shoved down your throat… and what a difference it really makes. Can you imagine?- I didn’t WANT anything. Not for an entire year- new camera? no, this one works. New blackberry? Please. New I pod, why? New digital whatever, new nothing… no. No new phone- NOTHING NEW. No clothes, NO NOTHING NEW- in a year I bought myself a ring (which actually my mom bought for me) and a pair of earrings. And that’s it. Seriously, food, beer and 3 pieces of jewelry. I didn’t even do Christmas. No shopping, no consumerism. I actually felt really good about NOT having all the trimmings. Such a relief.

Because before I left I was- fuckin, knee deep. Two phone lines, cell phone, fax, TV, cable, tivo, fancy car, all the insurances, video camera, computer, digital camera, extra batteries, extra cables, a charger in the car, in the bed room, in the office and one in the kit… I mean shit, you name it I had it… serious… all the STUFF.

And when I got rid of it all: pheeeew what a relief. I can’t tell you. And so much extra space in my life.

So then I go and lolly about in Italy for a year- no advertising, no marketing, no desire.

I’ve only been home two months. What can I say? My defenses are down. My stamina is low… my immunity to “the sell” is weak.

After I didn’t buy the phone that day (which I was secretly proud of) I was watching TV when a cingular commercial came on- for the razor phone- IN PINK. Which is pretty fucking awesome. But THEN they had the psychedelic fur’s “Pretty in pink” as the god damned soundtrack…

DUDE.

How can I fight that? Seriously… dude- I have no resistance to pretty in pink- I go right back to my love for Johnny Hughes, my endless infatuation with the 80’s… I think of Molly and Judd, Little Anthony Mikey Hall, Emilio, Abe Froman even James Spader… fuck me…I’m 16 in my trans am, a black one- not the guy the car- a black car, a pink guy, I’m twisting into a sea of 80 music and leg warmers, Ferris is there and life is moving pretty fast but I’m stopping to look around so as not to miss it, adults are the enemy and when you grow up your heart dies, I’m in a rolls, I’ve heard the fender on this is 5 grand- do have 5 grand? I don’t have 5 grand, but THIS is getting good- oh man, put the diamond earring in my year, cross the football field because no one was buying this together woman of the 80’s thing anyway…. And let’s plow because I’m the duckman and I live to like you and Jakes my boy, and the girl in the hat is so vogue and for a moment I’m farmer Ted, I’m not really a farmer though, and long duck dong is there and it’s sofa city sweetheart, and I can remember lots of things… because life is not what not and secondly it’s none of your business… and I got Caroline in the bedroom right now passed out cold I could violate her 10 different ways if I wanted to.. but it’s time to whip it and I’m having a total eclipse of the heart. In the 80’s it was really human for you to listen to all of my shit, even if we did have bra’s on our heads, on the highway to the danger zone, and screws fall out all the time in the 80’s, because the world is an imperfect place, but I’m a fucking genius because I can’t make a lamp, but moe-lay really pumps my nads and the question isn’t what are we gonna do today, it’s what aren’t we going to do, but it’s all voodoo economics, and it’s no problem what so ever because my best friends sister’s boyfriend's brother's girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who's going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night. I guess it's pretty serious.

And it WAS pretty serious.

Seriously.

And this is the thing about advertising.

They flash that pink phone and play that song, and me, their IDEAL target audience sees it. And that last paragraph storms thru my mind in an instant. And they win.

Game over. I loose they win. I HAVE TO HAVE THE LITTLE PINK PHONE. I have to.

And so I do. I go down to the store and buy it, and because its pink (and pretty) it’s $150. But I pay, I pay for Ferris and Molly and all of it.

And then I have it and every time it rings (and it rings a lot…) I have a little bit of that with me.

And that’s a lot. Plus every time someone sees it they say “ohhhhh you got the pink one, awesome….”

AND I LOVE IT. LOVE IT. I’m using the word love. I love my phone. IT’S AWESOME.

Sick. Demented. Delicious.

Caroline laughs and it’s raining all day and she loves to one of the girls…She’s pretty in pink. Isn’t she?

SCREWED BY A STRANGER

So, as you know I am sort of all over the place right now… wandering jew kinda thing (except with a place to sleep and not a jew). So when my friend gave me the number of a psychic who “was amazing” and had “blown her mind”I thought I’d give her a call and see if she could pull some mystic info down from the ether and perhaps offer some direction to me and my wandering ness.

Now I am kinda of a believer in psychic energy… I worked on a documentary on psychics a few years ago and it really kinda gave me new information about them. And I have remained curious about them ever since. I’m not a card carrying believer or anything.. but I think that anything is possible… and I have certainly experienced sensations like a deja-vu and coincidence- and it seems awfully closed minded to say that other people might not feel those feelings more strongly and be better honed at controlling them. For me that possibility exists, and therefore I am willing to indulge from time to time. For fun, for fascination, and to keep the hope alive that there is something great and cool and mysterious lingering just above all of our heads.

So I made the call, got an apt. Looked vaguely forward to it… blah blah. Was even prepared to drop the cash for it… and it wasn’t gonna be cheap.

But fuck it right? So I called this week to leave a message – hey I have an apt- where are you located, I don’t know where to go kinda thing. Then I called again morning of… uh- do we have an apt?

No answer, no call back.

Dude, no dice.

Totally stood up by a psychic. What a bitch. (and a wee bit unprofessional if you ask me). But seriously. What the fuck? Total spiritual fuck over. Screwed by a soothsayer. Bitch. So much for reading into shit now.

One can only hope she’s just unprofessional, and hasn’t been abducted by the Libyan army for testing or something…..

But I say fuck her either way.

Because I did ok- I managed. I was on the east side when I realized she wasn’t going to call back in time for my appointment. So I went to a park, sat in the sun, took a walk around the lake. Let the sky cross my mind. Then stood up and spent the rest of the day with the boy I like. Didn’t suck.

HOME ON THE RANGE

So living with the parents is starting to suck.

It’s nothing they have done- all they do is want to hang out and keep a stocked fridge, do my laundry and have a cleaning lady…. I don’t pay rent, I don’t pay bills I don’t even feed my cats.

It’s hell. Seriously.

I mean- how can I complain? On one hand I got it made- But dude. I got to get out of here- pronto.

I just need privacy. 30 and living with my parents. I love to save the money- but this is totally brutal. This weekend all I wanted to do was sit in MY SPACE and be ALONE and have a little privacy.

I guess the other thing is that since I have been here there has been someone else in the other guest room which means I am sharing a bathroom, and… well, after a year of being 6000 miles away from my closest friend- eating meals alone, sleeping alone- not speaking very good Italian or whatever… I just go so used to BEING ALONE.

And I fucking miss it. I do. I really just miss the quiet of my own thoughts while I chew, or sleep, or stare, or draw or read of WHATEVER.

I can’t get that here- and I knew I wouldn’t, and I knew coming into this that it would be like this- but, I’m afraid that doesn’t make it any easier.

And I don’t know what to do. Do I sublet an apartment- do I move back into my old one? Do I just stick it out? Can I even make it another month? I mean I want to save money but not this bad… am I even still going to Colorado? Should I just make money and move back to Europe? Don’t know what to do-

Really really confused man.

I guess that’s ok. Just feels weird. I’m not used to feeling this way, and I’m not a particular fan of being in unfamiliar territory.

But I’m not complaining. (or am I?) Just venting- on the little corner of the world that I have made for myself to do that.

HOLY MUTHER FUCKING SHIT

Greetings from the vortex. I am working as hard as I work these days. Commercials lined up back to back to back. Looks as though my trip to Italy in early feb will postponed- hopefully I can go end of feb… I really want to go and have a visit- but fuck man the work is coming on strong and I say keep it comin- mommy has bills to pay. So I figure make the hay while the sun shines and take a trip when the opportunity presents itself..

Haven’t had much time for a personal life- just work round the clock. The fucking Bronco’s lost (American football for my EU readers). Whatever… seen the boy a few times… I feel pretty whatever on that front as well.

Fuck it- I came to this town to make money- and well, I am. So happy days right.? But Jesus- I have been going from 6am to 11pm… it’s intense. Just when I get done with commercial work- I get an email with scripts to read… fuckin-a. So I work all day long these days. But it’s all good.

Actually I’m not complaining- it’s good times.

One totally awesome moment was last week I was working on a stage in Manhattan Beach and I got to go on the set of the “OC”. Which is pretty much my favorite show of all time… or at least my favorite guilty pleasure… man I was so fucking excited- full on kid in a candy store… It was almost embarrassing how excited I was- but my producer was equally excited- so it made for shared guilt… there are some pics here.

Then also I did a pretty silly commercial with dogs in it… the videos are pretty funny- will post a few soon, but here are a few pics… fucking advertising.

Anyway beyond that it’s all status quo. Work work work. At least I have a light at the end of the tunnel. What that is, I’m not entirely sure this evening… but I do know that it’s there.

K SO.

So, it’s not so bad to be here in LA. It’s actually pretty fun. It’s nice that it’s temporary…. But for now I am totally enjoying myself. I bought a car- a super shiny nice silver Honda CR-V. It’s great… its a 2002 but it feels brand new. I mean, the fucker is perfect…. Not a scratch on it… so that makes it fun to be here- because living in LA means lots of time spent in a car- and having a new one makes that fun.

Been working hard and it’s nice to know that there is money coming in… I’ve been spending lots of time with Damaris and Mimi, and that just fucking rocks. I’ve been seeing lots of movies and watching DVD’s and fuck knows I love the picture show. And I had a date the other night that was totally fun and not annoying or horrible (as they so often are) and so that is promising. Then the Bronco’s won yesterday which is the best shit ever, and tonight I am throwing a surprise birthday party for Damaris- which is fun and naughty and… so. You know- everything is good.

Living with the parents is mostly good, few rough patches… but nothing too intense… just the usual crap.

One thing I hate right now is “the question”. I got the question my senior year of collage, I got it when I finished the short film, and now I’m getting it again. I hate that question. You know the one: “So, what’s next for you?”

“Um, like, I don’t know man- just kinda freeloading off my parents for a while, trying to get out of debt, then gonna go to Colorado where I will freeload a while longer, hand with 2 year olds, make mud pies and then like, I don’t know.”

Maybe I had better answers last time. But I hate answering that question these days. There is always this tone of- you went to Europe… so now what. What epiphany did you have? Like they expect that they I am coming home to take over the world… and well, I guess I feel like I am disappointing them… or maybe I’m disappointing myself… or who the fuck knows… but I don’t want to talk about it. I just kinda want to keep it slow for now. I’ll speed up again… but not today.

Everyone always says in theory giving yourself a “sabbatical from life” is a good thing to do- but the looks one gets at dinner parties when trying to explain that you have no plan- or, more pointedly that the plan is the “anti- plan”… it doesn’t always bode well…it’s hard a hard one to spin…
So anyway- got that going on.

Mostly it’s good. And I feel good. Happy, healthy, looking forward to a lot of travel in the next few months- Rome, NY, Florida… Rhode island, Massachusetts… France… got a lot of miles to travel this year, and it all feels good.

So you know… happy. Happy days- anywhere I am. These days are Happy Days.

HELLO NEW YEAR. HOW ARE YOU? NOT SURE YET HUH? ME TOO.

I started my new year decidedly different than any other year ever ever ever. And by that I mean this: I slept right thru the fucker. Seriously. In bed. Asleep. Happy days. That may not seem that unusual to you, but I ‘m a big new years eve-er… I fucking love the night. An excuse to party for no good reason- it’s not religious, it’s not celebrating independence or a person… it’s not about jack shit… it’s about a fucking calendar for god sakes… not THAT is my kind of holiday… instead of new years eve I feel that we should call it “for no good fucking reason”… yes.

But I digress. In just about every year past I have had some extravagant plans whereby a group of friends and I howl at the mood in some mind altered bender at midnight, and no calls me crazy when I set things on fire.

And I had that all lined up this year, I had an excellent small but good times party not far away from the house where I could get shit faced, howl, ice skate, be by a fire, be under the stars, fireworks on hand… perfect… happy days.

But at about 9pm I got in bed, called Shoni told her to count me out, put my eye mask and my ear plugs in and got under the covers.

Somewhere around midnight I woke up to the sound of fireworks, and right out my window was a huge fucking display… I mean huge, and right in basalt. SO without as much as getting out of bed, Pete and I never moved, we just pulled back the curtain, watched the AMAZING show, rolled over and went back to bed. It was kind of awesome.

However, when you are expected to be the “life” of the aforementioned party, the guilt and the expectations and the disappointments when you don’t arrive at said party… well, that shit follows you around… and everyone thinks something is wrong with you and blah blah blah.

And I’m like “no man, I was just tired…”

But I can see a trend starting here. Not about new years, but with my friends looking for the chase they used to know and not having an easy time finding her.

----

Back in LA I feel like I am finally back in the states now. The last month has been such a cluster fuck- between work, incognito, driving to Colorado and the f-ing holidays… mama needs a break.

So I have spent the past few days paying bills, organizing my life, moving in to a comfortable level, seeing movies.. but mostly my time has been spent shopping for a car.

The last two times I have bought a car it was always fun… I mean shopping for a car means … well- YOU GET A NEW CAR. But this time it sucks ass. I attribute this to two factors. Firstly I am buying a used car (blarg). And secondly I don’t really WANT a car. I’d rather not thank you very much. And if I HAVE to… I thinking hybrid. Did you know those mother fuckers START at $30,000? Fuck that. Do you have $30,000? Cuz I sure as shit don’t. So then I’m like- go boring, reliable.. think rental car but not rented right? Oh for fuck sake how blasted boring is that?!!

I want character, spunk, spice, life… verve… But I also want the fucker to start in the morning. Ahhh the precarious nature of consumerism.

So after 4 days of 5 hours a day searching, I think I found a car that will due. I am driving down to Long Beach in the morning to check it out.

I think I am going to buy an SUV. Pause, wait for the “I’m joking” Actually I’m not. It’s not really a SUV, except that technically it is. It ‘s the Honda CR-V. It’s like a girly SUV. Lacks the gas guzzling cahones of a “real” SUV. No this puppy will get 30 miles to the gallon, a SUV I think not. (it’s essentially a civic on a truck chassis…

So anyway. I want to kill myself because those car salesmen are blood sucking greed mongering devil dick heads…. But I trudge on- thru the fiery pits of consumerism… trying to find my cay, one car panel at a time…

God damn this country is bleak. I guess the upside of buying a car is that the soon I get it the sooner I can see LA in my rear view window as I get the fuck out of this town. Ha.